


And a Good Day Was Had By... Martin

by Cleo2010



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Gen Fic, Good Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-13
Updated: 2012-02-13
Packaged: 2017-10-31 03:03:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/339154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cleo2010/pseuds/Cleo2010
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a prompt by the delightful Ningen Demonai:</p><p>
  <em>In honor of the fact that I  adore Martin, I'm going to make a fairly broad prompt:</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Martin having a good day and just being happy.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I just want to hug the poor, kicked puppy whenever he has a bad <strike>day</strike> all the days. Gen preferred, thank you. ♥</em>
</p><p>So here is Martin's good day, you know, once he gets the hang of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And a Good Day Was Had By... Martin

There was something about April that Martin liked. Winter was finally behind him, everything was springing back to life, at least in his home hemisphere, and generally the month of April had been less awful than the others. There was one particular reason. He'd passed his pilot's licence in April. In fact, it was five years ago to the day. "Happy anniversary, Captain Crieff." Martin said to the ceiling above his bed with a bit of a smile. With any luck he'd be flying today too. 

The smell of bacon and frying mushrooms dragged him out of bed. Even if he wasn't going to be eating more than his usual marmite on toast, he loved the smell of a fry up. It reminded him of Saturday mornings at home when everyone would sit around the table for breakfast without the chaos of getting ready for school or work. Then again Simon was always eager to go out and play football with his friends and Caitlyn had a thousand and one clubs to attend. Martin varied between spending weekends with his dad working on a car or his airfix models. He'd tried to learn musical instruments but they never held his interest like aviation. 

Martin threw on his dressing gown and made his way into the shared kitchen to find Steven, one of the agricultural students, cooking up a storm with his mobile phone between ear and shoulder.   
"What now? That bloody tosser! No, he didn't bloody tell me or I would be bloody there wouldn't I! They'll have my 'ead!"

Martin thought about slinking out but he needed to be at the airfield in an hour and it was always hit and miss whether the van would start. If only Carolyn would still send taxi's he wouldn't have to worry. 

He almost drooled on the table when Steven started assembling his sausage, fried egg, bacon, mushroom and tomato onto his plate already prepared with a slice of freshly buttered toast. The bacon looked more like a slice of gammon it was so thick and the sausage actually looked like it had meat in it. The ones Martin bought on occasion from Lidl were questionable at best.

"Wanker! No, no I'll come, I bloody have to. Yeah, yeah, tell 'im to make himself scarce, yeah, because I'm gonna go off on one if he even says a word." Steven hungup. "It's your lucky day Martin, help yourself."

"What? To your food?"

"Not got time because of twats, wankers and arseholes called Paul-bloody-Wood."

Martin wanted that food but he'd only made twenty quid so far this month and that was a long way off rent. "Um, how much?"

"Free mate, it's on Paul when I bloomin' see him anyway. Got a deal at the farmers market, agri-business 'n' all that." Steven slipped on his trainers. "It's all organic so you better enjoy it!" He yelled as the front door slammed.

Martin picked up the knife and fork, licking his lips. "I will." And he did. 

~~~*~~~

With Steven gone early there was enough hot water for a good twenty minute shower. Arthur was right, having a shower a little longer than you really need one gives you the same feeling as getting in a bath when it's just the right temperature. Pure unadulterated happiness. Martin only really got to luxuriate in a bath when they stayed in a good enough hotel. Most of the time Martin wasn't sure he wouldn't catch some hideous disease from the grouting. Martin sang this morning with some spoken amendments, "I'm leaving on a jet plane (that I fly), don't know when I'll be back again (probably Monday, maybe Tuesday morning), oh babe, I hate to go (but I really, really love flying)." 

~~~*~~~

By the time he arrived at the airfield he was a good fifteen minutes early. His van started first time and he found a free parking space only five minutes' walk away from the MJN hut. With the sun beating down on his hat he was walking with a decent spring in his step.

The MJN hut smelled of freshly brewed coffee, the only thing missing from Martin's sinfully greasy, cholesterol soaked breakfast. "Good morning, Arthur." 

"Morning, Skip! You're here early and you smell like bacon! Brilliant!"

"Yes, I had a fry up for breakfast." Martin could still taste that sausage, not a hint of trotter or snout. "Are we flying today?"

"Sure are, Skip! Mum's on the phone now. Wine gum?"

"Oooh, yes please. A captain needs to keep his blood sugar up." 

"Take one of the black or red ones, I don't like them."

"But everyone likes the red and black ones, they're the best ones." Martin helped himself to a handful of his favourites before Douglas got there. "But I won't argue with you."

Carolyn appeared and took some orange ones much to Arthur's half uttered protests. No one got between Carolyn and the orange wine gums. "Get your hat on, Martin, we are off to Venice."

"Are we... you know?" Martin couldn't actually say the name of the airport because it generally had the habit of sending Arthur into a whirl of excitement and shouting. Martin hoped it was that place. It was his favourite airport, approaching right over the water not to mention that Venice looked stunning from the air. The occasional crosswind made it fun too, made him feel like a competent pilot. Douglas actually complimented his landing once. 

"Yes, it's your lucky day, Martin. Must be a sign of the apocalypse."

"Martin doesn't have lucky days," Douglas strolled in and shrugged off his coat, "he doesn't even have unlucky days, just Martin days." He made a grab for one of the sweets in Martin's hands but today his reflexes reacted and his hand closed just in time. "It's rude not to share, Martin. What would your mother say?" 

Martin's in the mood to share his good fortune but not his wine gums, "She'd say, Marco Polo." he smiled and chucked another black wine gum into his mouth. 

"Marco! Polo! Marco Polo! Polo! Polo! Marco!"

"I think I'll do the walk around today." Martin grinned, leaving Carolyn and Douglas with the over excited Arthur. 

~~~*~~~

By the time Martin took his seat in the cockpit he's more than a little unnerved. The day was getting out of hand.

"Wings on the plane, Captain?"

"Uh, what? Yes, wings, yes we have wings. On the plane. Wings on the plane. Yes."

"Good." Martin could feel Douglas's eyes on him but stared straight ahead, it was a perfect day for flying, blue sky and a gentle breeze. His stomach sank even further. "Did you have some sort of traumatic experience between the nose and the tail? Did Gertie touch your special place? Or did she reject your advances again?"

"No. Everything is fine. Perfectly fine." Martin furroweed his brow. "Perfect." He almost whispered.

"How convincing, allow me to place my life in your hands, overwhelmed by your sassy confidence and bawdy bravado."

"It's not-" Douglas wouldn't understand and Martin wasn't sure he really understood why he felt so worried, "everything's fine. Pre-flight checks please, Douglas." 

"Yes, sir." Douglas was far from convinced but they were clear to fly and Martin couldn't bear to discuss it further.

~~~*~~~

ATC had just rung off, they'd been given permission to enter air space that took thirty minutes off their journey and the weather was still beautiful. "Uuuugghhh!"

"What on earth is wrong with you, Martin?"

"Nothing." He squeaked, throat tight with nerves. "Nothing." He tried again in a lower register but it sounds more like a terrible Barry White impression. "Nothing?" Now that sounded positively feminine. "Ugh."

"What miserable fate could have befallen you between eating wine gums and getting aboard because unless Roger the overly friendly mechanic got you cornered I just cannot understand. Of course, you're not Roger's type, he's a muscles man. I know, I've had to reject him time and time again."

"Roger's married."

"Yes, I know, I made all that up, now what's wrong?"

Martin wanted to give in, this day was too topsy-turvy. "I... I was inspecting Gerti's tail light and... and I found something stuck in the tail flap."

"Yes...?"

"It was... a twenty pound note." It was a miserable discovery. 

"Now you mention it I'm missing twenty pounds."

"Yes, I'm sure you are." Martin snarked before realising that it could be good news. "Are you really missing twenty pounds? Do you want it back? I have it right here."

"No Martin, I'm not actually missing any money though I'd be happy to take it off your hands if it's upsetting you so much."

"Oh. Oh no." Martin let his head fall into his hands. 

"You're twenty pounds richer after making no more effort than walking around a small, decrepit plane, shouldn't you be happy or even gloating a little? You're really not good at this."

"Exactly!" Martin cried, "Of course I'm not good at this! I'm not used to free delicious breakfasts, buckets of hot water, a van that actually starts without me having to push it and hop in when the engine turns over, or a decent parking space, or free coffee and free sweets! Not all in one day, it's too much! Something terrible is going to happen. I'm -I'm going to muck up the landing or something and I love Marco Polo, maybe I'll land us in the lagoon or accidently set fire to the city or a door will fly off-"

"Martin stop." Douglas saids firmly, halting Martin's rant so he could breathe again.

"S-s-sorry." Martin sat up straighter and checks a few dials and switches. "Sorry." He was still miserable. "I'm just not used to this." A whole day in Venice awaited him, one of his favourite places and it could only go wrong.

"If it makes you feel better maybe you'll get food poisoning from the breakfast."

"Really?" Martin perked up, "that would make sense."

"Or legionnaires from the shower."

"Ooh, legionnaires, that's a horrible disease." He smiled and nodded. 

"Did you have eggs?" Douglas asked to a fresh nod from Martin, "Salmonella."

"Oh! E-coli!"

"Good one. Botulism."

"Excellent! Listeria, I remember that from the dettol adverts that used to scare me when I was little. I was a little tightly wound as a child."

"You? A high strung youngster? I'd never believe it."

"I know, pretty incredible, wouldn't believe it now. Oh, I could just catch a cold. Hate colds."

"That too, maybe your van will be properly broken when you get back."

"Or stolen!"

"That's looking on the bright side!"

~~~*~~~

The day had gone splendidly. Martin had landed the plane with a feather touch at Marco Polo airport, he'd managed to say goodbye to an attractive female passenger without stuttering once and they'd gotten beds at the Lido hostel which had an amazing view of Venice over the lagoon. He and Douglas were sharing a room but Martin couldn't sleep, his attention drawn to the window. This was exactly where he sat now, overlooking the water and St Marks Square, with a stomach full of cheap but delicious pizza and a warm glow from the wine. He'd been smiling most of the night. 

Martin glanced at his watch, one that actually worked this time, it was five minutes to midnight. 

"Contemplating the universe are we, Martin?" Grumbled Douglas, dozy from sleep.

"Not really, the day perhaps."

"Yes, it's rather been a good one for you. An average one for people like myself considering I'm sharing a room with you and not some olive-skinned, lithe Italian signorina and finding other uses for some extra virgin olive oil."

"It has though, been a good day I mean, I've quite enjoyed it actually." Martin sighed quite contentedly. "It's oddly fitting. Five years ago today I passed as fit to fly."

Douglas sat up, his typically well groomed hair standing up on one side. "Congratulations, Martin. You should have said something earlier, I would have sprung for that cannelloni you were eyeing up."

"Arthur bought it for me, even gave me a hug too. Can't remember the last time someone hugged me, or at least someone who wasn't drunk." It had been rather sweet, yet another good thing to happen today. Granted it was Arthur but he'd meant it, there was no pity.

"Will a pat on the shoulder suffice, Captain?" Douglas put a large palm on Martin's shoulder, it's oddly comforting. He hadn't felt this content in a long time. 

"It's been a good day. Nice to know I get one once in a while." Martin's watch bleeped twice to signal the hour. The day was over now. "Right, sleep I think, might do a little exploring as we've got tomorrow off. Thanks, Douglas."

"I'm just glad I could bear witness to Martin's lucky day. Not that anyone would believe me but everyone needs a tall tale to tell."

"They really don't get much taller."

"Have I ever told you about the time I flew Scarlet Johannson just before she got famous? Marvellous girl, surprisingly flexible and gorgeously eager for-"

"Goodnight, Douglas." Martin said sharply but with warmth. 

"Goodnight, Martin."


End file.
